Beyond Imagination
by Dr.Dalek
Summary: A thin silky piece of cloth lines the unlimited depths of space: The fabric of reality. And apparently it's got a TARDIS-shaped hole in it. And not even the Doctor himself knows what awaits him on the other side... Strange and disturbingly absurd story, completely stripped off the walls of reality, including psychological terror and dubious pregnancies.
1. Chapter 1

The way we see it the world around is our world.  
_The_ world.  
What we see is reality.  
Well, at least we think that what we see is reality.  
Though it doesn't necessarily mean that what we don't see isn't reality.  
In fact reality is nothing more than a thin fabric lining the entire universe; so there are no limits to reality.  
But an end of it.  
A woven end, where the creator actually ran out of yarn. So reality simply stops somewhere; and of course it can be overstretched, just in the same way you can overstretch a knitted pullover.

And there is a wall of reality, a barrier. Literally and not metaphorically.  
And apparently it's got a TARDIS-shaped hole in it…

* * *

The Doctor squinted against the broad light above him.

"What we see is reality" he mumbled quietly because he couldn't think.  
What he thought wasn't real. He thought he'd been in his beloved ship, floating aimlessly through space.  
But he wasn't.  
Because he only thought that he was far away. He just _thought_ it.

He even thought he'd once possessed a home; but _who_ was he to know?

The Doctor shifted a bit on the hay. Whenever he'd close his eyes it would be gone.  
The noises. The thoughts. The memories. Everything.  
All just gone.

He didn't exist as far as his arms could reach but as long as he could see. As long as he saw himself, an arm or whatever it was called, he'd know that he was there. No, he didn't know. He _saw_ it.  
Reality has to be seen.

The Doctor existed because he saw himself.  
And he was definitely going mad.

He was in a wooden enclosure, a stable of some sort, he normal would have thought.  
But he didn't.

His head was aching at the mere thought of being of existence. His thoughts… his…  
It all made no sense.

There were parts of his mind claiming that he wasn't human.  
Or whatever a human was.  
He couldn't recall what a human being looked like, so it was rather hard for him to tell the difference.  
And there were other bits of his memory trying to convince him that he'd had a sex; that he'd belonged to a race with two sexes; and that he belonged to the part that wouldn't conceive.

The Doctor's gaze drifted downwards. But he was carrying… something.  
Whatever it was he'd been carrying it for…

The Doctor clutched at his temples and moaned softly.  
The headache worsened. And it grossed him out that he was convinced that he could see something inside of his bulged stomach moving.  
His hands touched the strained skin which spread across his abdomen.

It moved.  
It tossed.  
_It_ started.

The Doctor believed that he'd never felt contractions before. But he knew what they were instantly as they caused his body to twitch rhythmically.  
He thought he'd never gone into labour; and he believed he wouldn't.

Well, what did he know?

The Doctor crawled around on the hay uneasily.  
He couldn't.  
He couldn't think, he still couldn't think, as if all thoughts were swapped away or simply never existed.  
What was happening to him?  
For the first time he could remember...  
...or probably for the first time in his entire life he raised his voice...

"Please...help me...! Can't anybody help me?"

His frightened voice echoed through the emptiness that was apparently surrounding him.  
But there was no answer. No reply.  
Just the humming noise from the buzzing light.  
And the Doctor thought he could hear... no he believed he could hear words in it... or a voice...

"Please" whimpered the Doctor as he was still crawling. He lifted his head and stared into the burning light.

"Help me!"

The constant humming somehow soothed him. He didn't know how or why. And he knew that he wouldn't find out.  
In fact he didn't even know. He just saw it. And he saw that nothing was changing but for the worse.  
He couldn't think.  
He placed both hands on his temples, gently pressing against them.  
He'd been lost in thoughts before.  
But now his thoughts were lost.  
Whipped out of existence... they had ever existed.  
And thinking about not being able to think at all was driving him crazy... unless he'd already lost his mind. In that case he shouldn't wonder.  
But who was he to know?

The Doctor collapsed against a wall.

The light was talking to him; or at least he thought he'd heard a voice.  
But there was someone watching.  
Someone was here...  
He could feel them... He was convinced that he could hear them.

"Please I... I need help..."

The Doctor got cut off by fear filled groans and hisses.

"Please...I'm..."

The Doctor screamed. The thing that formed the bulge in his abdomen moved.  
And it had to come out.

The Doctor lay on the hay, curled up into a ball, whimpering, whining and screaming.  
A throbbing movement inside of his swollen abdomen caused him to twitch uncontrollably. With a yelp of pain he sat up in an instant and tumbled backwards against he felt his back hitting the wooden wall.

If he wasn't going to free himself from that thing... the thing would sure try to free itself from him.

The contractions increased and deteriorated from second to second.  
They became stronger.  
The Doctor screamed in agony as he needed to push and push as he felt his flesh ripping and as a sound of tearing silk echoed all over the stable.

His face was covered in tears and sweat; his forehead was burning as he tossed the hair out of his face and gave it one last push.

The pain had stripped his mind off the walls of reality.  
It stung. It hurt.  
It hurt so much that the Doctor couldn't even take thinking about it anymore as he gasped for air.

The sticky bundle in front of him twitched and tossed around on the hay.

The Doctor panted and turned his head aside, facing the dirt-spotted wooden wall.  
He didn't want to see_ it_.  
Whatever _it _was he needn't see it.

He managed to get on all fours and crawled over the stinking moist floor.  
He crouched into the furthest corner and whipped his face clotted.

The Doctor raised his head and stared into the artificial light, helplessly searching for something that would take his mind off the pain and the squirming thing now lying helplessly in the stable.

"What now?" he asked almost voiceless with beckoning eyes; as if the light would provide any answer.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

The Doctor's hands trailed down his naked and maltreated body as they reached inevitably for his injured groin.  
He stared absent-minded at his bloodstained fingers and licked them without further consideration.  
He didn't even taste his own amniotic fluid; in fact he didn't taste anything.  
He was in too much pain to experience the world around him.

He watched the slimy bundle rocking and unfurling.

The Doctor had come to notice that it hadn't been one big creature that had broken through his genital region, but four small ones that were now helplessly squirming in the hay.  
And they squeaked; they twirled hoarsely for their mother...  
No, for anything that would protect them and take care of them.

The Doctor crawled over to them and pushed the hay aside.  
He stopped panting and considered those shuddering creatures closer.

They were covered in sticky but short fur, the colour of soft butter caramels. At the end of each of their four legs was something resembling a paw, but a lot more solid. And probably sharper.  
In some way they would have reminded the Doctor of a calf; if he'd still been able to remember what a calf actually looked like.  
But nevertheless they had longer snouts.  
Snouts you would have expected on a seahorse but not on a mammal.

The four creatures opened their big eyes at the Doctor and glared at him sheepishly.  
Then one of them, one that possessed already enough sense of direction, gave a quiet squeal and approached him clumsily.

The Doctor watched as the other cubs followed its example.  
Four sticky creatures snuggled against the Doctor's legs and rubbed their small and flexible bodies against his skin to keep warm.  
And the Doctor reached down to stroke them tenderly.

* * *

The Doctor rested on the scattered hay as the four small creatures snuggled up closer. Whatever they were they belonged him to him now.

The Doctor's hand touched the dried fur cautiously.

'Baublee papal' was the name of the creatures; though he'd never seen them before the Doctor had known it instantly.  
And he wouldn't question his scattered thoughts inside of his twisted mind.

Some of the small snouts worked their ways up to the Doctor's chest and he felt one of them closing around his nipples.  
The Doctor raised his head from the hay as his hand reached for the little one currently sucking on his breast.

"I'm afraid it's of no use" the Doctor found himself mumbling before a warm feeling overwhelmed him.  
The Doctor collapsed back onto the floor.  
He knew that he wasn't meant to be feeding children, that his body couldn't produce milk to nurture his offspring. And it wouldn't be different with creatures of unknown origin.

But to his surprise there was another Baublee papal approaching him. And it crawled even nearer, getting on top of him and resting while it started sucking likewise.  
Though the Doctor's chest hurt he wouldn't have said that he felt anything.  
He was feeding the two little ones and tried to shut off his wrecked mind that kept reminding him that something was fundamentally wrong.

* * *

The Doctor's eyes snapped open as he sensed the darkness approaching him.  
He hadn't closed his eyes; he couldn't remember ever shutting them or falling asleep.  
It seemed as if he'd only now been able to open them further.  
Or, to be more specific: open them truly.

The Doctor found himself to be strapped down on a strange and rather unpleasant looking entity.  
He was unable to move his head but he thought he knew what it looked like.  
As if he'd already seen it before... in a nightmare.

There was no sound surrounding him; just a faint and distant buzzing a deeply gutted growl.  
And the cold and sudden pain shot trough him in the blink of an eye.  
And it passed as it had arrived.  
And the Doctor found himself mumbling, without giving it much thought:

"That must be what an artificial insemination feels like."

And the bounds became loose.

* * *

The Baublee papals seemed restless in the way they explored the small enclosure. They moved with increasing eagerness.

The Doctor felt weak as he leaned against the wooden wall. He watched the little ones absent-minded and sighed barely audible.  
His stomach had become bulged and strained over the past... time.  
The Doctor squinted against the light.

He didn't feel time passing.  
He hadn't felt it; he hadn't felt how he'd returned to the enclosure, he hadn't seen anything as everything in front of him happened in the blink of an eye and was reality as long as he could see.  
It felt as if time had stopped and wouldn't pass for him; as if nothing had moved and changed.  
But the Baublee papals had changed; they had grown; as well as his abdomen.  
He was beginning to feel the increasing pressure on his back again.

A snout poking his swollen abdomen brought him back into reality and he looked down at the Baublee papal.  
It seemed to be fascinated by his increased stomach and it continued moving against it beckoningly.  
The Doctor flinched and lost his grip on the wall as it poked his stomach with increasing force.

He hissed through gritted teeth and sank down onto the floor.  
Soon the snout had found its way towards the Doctor's nipples.

"You're getting greedier every day" he mumbled quietly whilst he had seemed to have forgotten that there were no days, nor were there weeks or months.

There was just a _now_ as time refused to pass.

And time froze and stayed unmoved.  
The Doctor wouldn't feel it passing, or slipping.  
But in one glance eternity could be found.  
Whenever he would close his eyes he found nothing but silence and time rushing past him.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor had crouched into the furthest corner of the stable, helplessly trying to hide from both the light, the all-watching eye above him that seemed to talk to him in a long-forgotten language, and the Baublee papals; he'd failed miserably in trying to keep them from snuggling up against him or sucking at his hurting chest.  
He hadn't been able to shush them away.

They were still poking him and pushing against his naked skin beckoningly with their snouts.  
The Doctor was curled up into a ball, a tremor running through his body as his shoulders twitched uncontrollably. He sobbed and yelped barely audible as he felt contractions.

"No... please..." he mumbled quietly;

"Not again..."

He screamed in agony and clung at his thighs, digging his fingernails into his own skin that he felt the flesh tearing.  
His crotch was ripping and the warm amniotic fluid bedabbled his legs.  
He pushed rhythmically and screamed, constantly observed by the Baublee papals, which had fallen silent, and the whispering light above him.  
He rolled onto his back and spread his legs, his rear end slightly moving upwards–  
And another litter was born.

The Doctor cowered in the corner and watched the Baublee papals approaching the newborns.

And he blinked.  
And the pain rushed away leaving his body without him even noticing it.  
And there was nothing.  
No sound. No word.  
Just black eternity.

* * *

The Doctor wouldn't open his eyes again.  
He didn't want to... he never want to do this ever again.  
He decided on hovering in the same position as before.  
He wouldn't budge. He wouldn't move.

He would only wince as something long and sharp entered his body through his torn crotch to eject a cold liquid into his intestines.

* * *

Unwillingly the Doctor's eyes snapped open as he heard a pleading whimper.  
He turned around and stared.  
He stared at the empty hay surrounding him.

Four small Baublee papals had pressed their tiny bodies against his large one, constantly shivering, constantly wheezing.  
But the whimper emerged from somewhere else...

The Doctor's eyes scanned the wooden surroundings carefully and as another whine protruded from behind the walls he had found it; there was a gap between two battens, there was a hole in the solid wall and soon a snout would appear in sniff hopelessly towards the Doctor.

The Doctor got into a nearly upright position and stumbled over to the gap, his steps blocked and observed by the four small Baublee papals beside him.

He squatted down in front of the battens and gave the snout a gentle pat; it whimpered unsatisfied.  
While the Doctor remained in his current position, which was a lot closer to the floor than before he'd started to move, the four little ones approached him and got on their hind legs as their snouts reached for the Doctor's chests beckoningly.  
The Doctor sighed and stroked the snout that rubbed itself against his hand.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled dolefully "But I'm afraid I can't nurture all of you."

The snout pushed itself against his warm fingers as a long and wet tongue snapped out of it; it tickled on his fingers.

Meanwhile the smaller Baublee papals, the ones that had been spared the hurt of physical separation, moved closer and closer, rubbing their warm and soft head against his knees, and those more fortunate to be within reach of what they longed for, against his chest. The snouts that made contact with the valuable nipples started sucking instantly.

The big snout from the next enclosure started sucking on his fingers likewise.

The Doctor released his hand and gave the snout one last apologetic pat.  
He breathed in deeply.  
"Please, behave..." the Doctor's voice sounded like a whistle's echo in the wind  
"...I'm sure they'll take good care of you..."

And with beckoning eyes he squinted against the light.

* * *

The Doctor arose from the hay. While he'd been sleeping...  
No.  
He shook his aching head.  
He'd only blinked. There had just been nothing. No time passing.  
Nothing had happened while he hadn't been sleeping.

The Doctor clutched at his head with both hands as his mind seemed to throb and helplessly move out of his skull.

What brought him back into his present misery was a rumbling noise protruding from behind the wooden walls.  
The Doctor's eyes stayed fixed on the battens as he pushed the peacefully sleeping Baublee papals aside and got his feet. He crouched over the floor until he'd reached the small gap in the wall.  
And then he listened.

Irritated whimpers were followed by distant thudding and bumping sounds, there were frightened squeals, beckoning whines, a sound resembling a clapping of hooves and then...  
Nothing.

The Doctor held his breath as he listened anxiously.  
The distant slamming of a door caused him to flinch.  
The Doctor ran his dry tongue over his lips.

No sounds.  
No reply.

The Doctor backed away from the wooden wall and turned to the light.  
"What have you done?" he yelled as fear arose inside of him "Where are you taking them?"  
Nothing but the sound of his nervous breathing.  
"Where are they?!"

The room had fallen silent again. Eventually a lonely squeal protruded from behind the wall.  
A frightened question.

The Doctor turned towards the wooden wall again and ran his fingers over it, touching it with a strange tenderness.  
"I'm sorry" he whimpered, choking back tears "Please don't... I... I'm..."

The snout that had till now been pushing against his cold hands got pulled aside. A disturbed squeal escaped the frightened Baublee papal.  
There was a rattling noise as if hay got shoved out of something big's way and the disturbing noises became a distant whimper.

The Doctor closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands.  
He tried to forget; he tried to let the endless darkness close in around him; he longed for being swallowed up by the endless nothingness that was gnawing its way through his mind.  
He had started to sob; silent tears bedabbled his burning cheeks.

The four small ones approached him. They found shelter and warmth as they rested closer to him.

There was the sound of ripping velvet and a desperate last squeal from behind the wall.  
Then there was dead silence; a dead silence only to be disturbed by something breathing heavily in the distance.  
And then...  
It stopped.

The Doctor held his breath as a constant rinsing sound filled the air and came closer. The sizzling noise grew louder and with every drop that had been spilled on the other side it seemed to get closer to the Doctor.  
The Doctor had grabbed the last remaining Baublee papals and pressed them panic-fuelled against his chest.

And he even failed to notice that one of them had stopped breathing as he was squeezing it too tightly; to protect it.

* * *

The Doctor hadn't let go of the little ones; He had squeezed them harder and harder until one of them had given a frightened squeal.

Now the Doctor was lying in the hay. The tears had nearly dried only to be joined by tears of pain and desperation.

The jolting movement startled his body, though he tried to concentrate on patting the Baublee papals that lay scattered around the hay.  
He flinched as he felt something inside of his stomach moving.  
He squinted against the light and struggled for air.

"No... please... not... no more..."

The Baublee papals were startled by the Doctor's sudden cramps; he clutched at his swollen stomach.

"I won't...!"

The Doctor yelled against the light as tears flowed down his cheeks.  
"I don't want to!" he screeched frightened after taking a deep breath.  
"No, please...!"

His voice became more pleading as he felt something inside of him moving; squirming; and finally pushing to be set free; to be born.  
But he wouldn't let that happen; not again.  
One litter was just... gone... and immediately.  
The Doctor pressed his hands against his swollen abdomen. He felt legs pushing them, he felt them moving and coiling inside of him.  
He choked back tears as he felt the movement to become a panicky struggle for survival.  
If the Doctor wouldn't let them out...

"I can't... please!" begged the Doctor as the moving thing inside of him tried to wriggle free.

"No more, please... no more of them..." whispered the Doctor.

The Baublee papals had joined his side and watched him with wondering eyes.

"Please... please...!"

The Doctor stayed silent and would only flinch as they got free.  
He tried not to count the hurtful tremors spreading through his body; though he could tell without counting that it had been four.  
Four... again four...

The Doctor whimpered and held his eyes shut.  
His groin felt sticky and sore.  
He heard squeals; he heard never before heard whimpers; he heard new ones.  
He had cast another litter.

And there was the Doctor; Empty-minded and with a hollow out soul.  
He lay on the hay, his head turned aside in both shame and disgust; he wanted nothing; he hoped for nothing.  
He just wanted this nightmare to be over.  
But that was the point:

Escaping a nightmare was usually performed by waking up.  
But the Doctor never slept.

He lay on his back, eyes wide open.

A soft and sticky snout trailed over his now flat stomach, as soft and small legs pawed their ways across his weak body.

He had come to the conclusion that he had to sleep first to awake from a terrible nightmare.

A small snout prodded the Doctor's chest only to get pushed aside by a bigger one's.  
The Doctor's eyes sagged though he had no strength left to raise his head.  
He watched the Baublee papals out of the corner of his eyes, watched as the bigger ones pushed the smaller ones aside if they dared to near the Doctor's chest.  
And yet they seemed playful... they seemed so gushy.

Selection pressure; the Doctor contemplated without thinking; his mind was so much of a blur that it would have suffocated every rational thought that would be unfortunate enough to pass by.  
But that was what was happening; and that had probably been the reason why the older ones had been separated from the little ones.  
He couldn't feed them all. He couldn't...

A rattling at one of the battens didn't only startle the Baublee papals but caused the Doctor to sit up in an instant. His eyes stayed fixed on the wooden wall.

"No!"

The Doctor had started shouting as soon as he'd found his voice again; "No, don't take them away! Don't! You can't take them away!"

The Doctor grabbed the small Baublee papals that seemed to be more upset about the Doctor shouting than the rumbling noises from without.  
The bigger Baublee papals hid behind the Doctor instinctively.

The Doctor tried to remain persuaded and strong minded; though it was hard to tell for him without actually knowing anymore what it felt like to own a mind.  
His replies were gut-reactions, nothing more but pseudo instincts deeply rooted somewhere inside of his skull.

The Doctor waited anxiously and caressed the four small ones in his arms.  
The rattling from without didn't grow louder nor did it seem to dwindle into the distance.  
It just stayed; unsatisfying, unnerving and steadily.  
The Doctor grasped the small ones tighter until one of them elicited a hurt squeal.

The rumbling noises lingered outside; the wooden wall didn't budge nor did the constant working without seem to have any effect.  
The barrier was stronger than expected...

* * *

The Doctor knelt on the floor and stroked the uneasy Baublee papals.  
He embraced the two little ones that were currently resting on his chest; well not only resting; they were devouring every drop they obtained.

The constant sucking noises caused the other Baublee papals to become restless; they seemed to grow impatient and agitated.  
The Doctor pushed a bigger one aside as it rubbed its snout against the Doctor's chest.

"Just stop it" he snarled and separated the Baublee papals once more as they started fighting and attacking each other.  
He knew it would have happened.  
Well, he knew nothing, not without a mind as big as the universe and as organized as sand of the sea; thoughts and moments rustled trough his mind.  
And in between there was nothing but hollowness constantly engulfing the nothingness inside of his skull.

The Baublee papals were hungry and the Doctor couldn't help but try to nurture them as best as possible.  
The smaller ones didn't endure hunger as long as the bigger ones, though they didn't need as much to be fed. But he had to feed the bigger ones, too; and he had t feed them enough to keep them from starving while he mustn't feed them too much or otherwise they would start attacking the smaller ones again.

All in all it seemed like a moral dilemma, cutting back the food rations for the bigger ones to keep the little ones alive and vice versa.  
But the Doctor refused to let them go, he refused to let them be taken.

The Doctor hadn't closed his eyes, at least not willingly, he hadn't blinked he hadn't turned his eyes off the wooden walls due to the constant fear.

He couldn't realize that he was, in the long term, killing all of them; but he though it wasn't his decision to take, no, he wasn't the one to make a choice.  
All he wanted was to keep them alive... to keep them alive as long as possible.

* * *

The sudden bang at the wooden wall caused the Doctor to flinch. There was a drilling sound; or possible the noise of small explosive devices detonating.  
And what followed was a nerve-racking constant thudding sound that became louder and louder.

The Doctor had moved in front of the stunned Baublee papals protectively, holding the weakest one in his arms as it wouldn't stop squealing.  
And he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

"Please, don't... please, please don't..."

The first splinters became loose and propelled through the air. The drilling noise had joined the thudding sound as a tremor spread throughout the floor.

"Please, I beg you... please don't... please don't... please..."


	3. Chapter 3

_12 days.  
Jack shook his head and let out a soft long drawn-out sigh._

_The Doctor had gone missing twelve days ago.  
And it had taken them nearly a week to locate the TARDIS' emergency signal._

_It had dawned on Jack shortly after his arrival.  
The Doctor had gone further than mankind, and probably Time Lord-kind, had ever gone; No, he_ _corrected himself,_ should _have gone;_  
_He'd reached a point beyond every beings imagination._

_The Doctor had discovered the far end of reality; he'd discovered the fabric reality was actually made of.  
And he'd ripped a hole in it as he'd crashed through its invisible walls._

_And he hadn't been a pretty sight, either._

_Jack had settled down in the settee in the TARDIS; he closed his eyes to avoid the Doctor's gaze.  
The Doctor had been whimpering and whining; he'd been naked and injured and there were..._ things... _hiding behind him... or things he tried to hide from their view..._  
_Jack couldn't drown out the worst noises of them all.  
The constant helpless please of the Doctor. His constant begging for mercy..._

_Jack sighed.  
They had managed to retrieve the Tardis and there had been four things lurking behind it. Bigger things... but they looked exactly the same as the  
And the Doctor had hugged them as soon as he'd been shown them._

_And together they had managed to drag the Doctor out of the Derreality*, the pure manifestation lining the backside of reality itself. And as soon as the Doctor's feet had touched the ground, as soon as he'd breathed in and been there... well, in fact, as soon as he'd been _again_ he'd started to ramble on about the delicacy of reality and time, about how careful you were supposed to treat them and how the inconsistency of time, reality and momentum could form one giant life-stream big enough for the universe itself._

_And Jack had instantly known that the Doctor had been back. Or, to be more precisely: that he'd escaped non-existence and was back into existence in an instant._

_But the Doctor had risked a look back.  
And Jack knew he never should have done that.  
And Jack knew he never should have succumbed to the Doctor's beckoning eyes._

_Jack folded his arms again and sighed as he stared at the Doctor who was busy ushering the creatures into a room.  
"I'm not quite comfortable with knowing they're around" mumbled Jack sulkily.  
"They're not only around, they're _alive_ Jack; that's all that matters."  
The Doctor tried locking the door as once again a creature wandered off._

_"__What exactly are they?" asked Jack and shifted a bit uneasy. He didn't know what to think of a soppy Time Lord.  
"They just... are..."  
The Doctor managed to retrieve the last one and closed the door.  
The squeaking behind the walls wouldn't stop; it just got quieter._

_The Doctor faced Jack and darted a cold stare at him._

_"__And what are you going to do about them?" asked Jack.  
The Doctor owed him an explanation.  
Jack sighed._

_Jack knew nothing about continuance or the importance of time and monument or whatever the Doctor had been blathering about.  
But something told him that you shouldn't bring surreal things into reality.  
Something about that didn't seem quite right..._

_Because..._

_They didn't exist on the other side. Neither did the Doctor. But the Doctor had existed before; he'd just been whipped out of existence for some time. But these things..._

_"__Baublee papals" added the Doctor.  
Jack spun around to meet his gaze. There appeared to be a slinky smile on the Doctor's face:  
"They're called Baublee papals" explained the Doctor.  
Jack gave him an apologetic nod before shaking his head.  
"Quit rummaging around in my head" snapped Jack and rubbed his chin._

_Well, if they didn't exist on the other side of the universe then they couldn't exist on this side, either, concluded Jack. Which meant that sooner or later the universe would be imbalanced, because one part of it is lacking matter that wasn't there but appeared on the other side and therefore..._

_Jack snorted and buried his face in his hands.  
Behind him the Doctor chuckled as he felt Jack's thoughts turning into a knot.  
Jack was in a huff and folded his arms in front of his chest again._

_"__I'll tell you what, Doctor" grumbled Jack "You can keep those things if you want to, you can do whatever the hell you want with them and I don't even care what they are and where they came from; but if the whole universe collapses on top of us one day I know who's to blame!"_

_The Doctor chuckled and wandered off into the depths of the Tardis.  
Jack snarled under his breath._

_Stupid Time Lords._

* * *

*Derreality (actually, it's not German but a portmanteau of _derrière_ and _reality_; and 'Derrièrereality' would have been terrible to spell, not to speak of its pronunciation) marks the existence of non-existence: A paradox that, as soon as it finds out about it itself, may be big enough to swallow up the whole universe. (But thankfully most interstellar phenomena appear to be pretty slow.) Derreality never started to exist, because it can't, but it's always been there, huddling against the universe's soffit.  
It is believed that nothing can live inside of the Derreality and therefore nothing can come out alive; this, however, appears to be not true.


End file.
